


Cuddling With Your Demon

by laireshi



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Cuddle Pollen, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 04:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20420252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/pseuds/laireshi
Summary: The Underworld is full of things wondrous and horrifying both. Most of what Dante and Vergil encounter tries to kill or maim them.They couldn't prepare for something that made themcuddle.





	Cuddling With Your Demon

**Author's Note:**

> LOOK I CAN FLUFF.

Hell is many things: dark, stinking and eerily quiet when they’re not surrounded by demons, but it is never boring.

For one thing, Vergil is near him, and Dante would be content sitting quietly in a library for hours on end if that meant Vergil stayed, basking in his presence. For another, there’s enough demons showing up to keep them entertained in the moments they’re not fighting each other. And finally, hell is ever-changing. 

Dante had rather a singular goal the last time he’d been here (he can admit as much to himself now, considering his current company) and admiring the landscapes was the last thing on his mind, but now he delights in observing all the strange things around them. Sometimes it’s multi-coloured lights dancing in the distance to some unheard tune (“They’ll burn your skin to the bone if you approach them,” Vergil said when he noticed Dante’s interest, because he always has to ruin his fun), sometimes it’s ancient-looking trees that are nothing like the Qliphoth (“Those ones feed on _demon_ blood, little brother, but I doubt they’d mind the half-human addition. Shall we test it?”), and sometimes it’s a field full of golden flowers that look nothing like what Dante had seen in the human realm.

Vergil doesn’t have a comment for those, something that both surprises Dante and fills him with glee.

“Anything special about those little guys?” he asks to confirm his suspicions, but Vergil remains stubbornly quiet.

Dante laughs. “So you don’t know all, big brother?

Vergil does answer, this time, the Yamato slashing where Dante stood not a second ago. Dante grins at him, calling King Cerberus to his hands and attacking Vergil with fire. His brother dodges—Dante always has to work so hard to draw Vergil’s blood, but that just means it’s that much sweeter when he finally cuts his skin. Dante twirls the nunchaku in front of him, catching blue summoned swords in it before they can hurt him, when Vergil moves with his horrific speed right into Dante’s space, running the Yamato through him. 

Dante grins, changing his weapon’s form again, charging it to hit Vergil while they’re connected like this, Dante impaled on the Yamato, his blood flowing down her blade, Vergil’s hands sure and steady on the hilt.

Vergil notices; of course he does. He yanks the Yamato out and backs away, but Dante catches him on the shoulder with King Cerberus, lightning dancing down from it to shock Vergil—

It runs down his silhouette and strikes at the field they’re standing in. The flowers start emitting low light as one. They glow in soft blue, so different to the colour of their petals, and Dante watches, fascinated, their fight forgotten. Then the flowers move as if by wind that Dante can’t feel, and suddenly sprinkle something not unlike pollen all around them, a big golden cloud obscuring Dante’s vision for a few moments. 

He only realises belatedly it’s probably a bad idea to let it settle on his skin, much less inhale it, but in truth he couldn’t have avoided either anyway. He wants to unleash his demon to keep himself safe from whatever wicked effect it might have, but it’s too late; the desire for violence stripped away from him.

He looks at Vergil, but he’s just standing there, completely still, his eyes wide and _warm_ in an intrinsically wrong way. Vergil’s never warm. He’s the snow creaking in the moonlight, ice potent enough to freeze rivers in their beds, a blizzard sucking the warmth out of anyone unlucky enough to be caught in his range. But now he’s warm and inviting like sunlight after rain. 

They never touched outside of battle until now, but Dante reaches for his brother at the same time as Vergil reaches for him and they collide with each other. Dante’s senses are too addled to be able to keep upright, but that’s okay: Vergil is clearly similarly affected, because they gracelessly tumble to the ground together. If he were thinking straight, that would be worrying, but at the moment he’s just overwhelmingly glad for Vergil’s proximity, his touch as essential to his well-being as breathing, more so. He wraps his arms tight around Vergil, presses his face in the crevice between Vergil’s neck and shoulder, and breathes in his scent. His brother presses a myriad of little kisses to the top of his head, his arms returning Dante’s embrace. Something else wraps itself around Dante, too, its touch alien but inexplicably safe, and he only identifies it as Vergil’s tail when the tip of it pushes itself under his palm on Vergil’s back. He still needs _more_ of Vergil, but the tail gives him an idea, and he exhales as his wings come out of his back and extend around them both to keep them warm and protected.

Hugging is a human concept. Demons understand sex (and oh, does Dante want to kiss his brother senseless sometimes, lick the blood from his lips and let Vergil devour him) and battle (and there are little things Dante enjoys half as much as crossing his blade with Vergil’s, now that they don’t aim to actually harm each other), but the safe space and a comforting feeling of belonging offered by a platonic embrace of a loved one is foreign to them. It makes sense that Dante’s human side clings to Vergil with all his might, never wanting to let go; it’s inexplicable why his demon purrs in agreement in his soul, like being pressed against Vergil is somehow better than exchanging blood with him in a fight. 

Vergil _smells_ content, happy and pleased to be snuggling with Dante in the Underworld, his tail twitching lazily, his fingers wandering up Dante’s back to play with his hair gently, never pulling. Dante lets out an almost embarrassing sound at that, but he doesn’t care. He never wants Vergil to stop doing whatever he’s doing to his head now. He runs one hand over Vergil’s tail in return, hoping it feels half as nice, and lets himself relax into it. 

_Huh_.

He’s hugging Vergil. He’s hugging Vergil, and Vergil is not stabbing him. Dante frowns. Is that what the flowers did to them? Made them crave physical affection? That’s not a particularly evil thing, in his opinion. He starts to pull away, just an inch to be able to glimpse Vergil’s face, see if he’s back to himself too, but Vergil only pulls him closer again. There’s none of the earlier urgency in his moves though, like he too is now fully aware of what exactly they’re doing and why.

And he doesn’t mind. 

Dante smiles into Vergil’s neck and dozes off. If anything dangerous approaches, Vergil will know.

Vergil’s voice wakes him an indeterminate amount of time later. “We should go on,” he announces, though his usually calm voice is now filled with regret.

Dante shares it, but he has to agree, too. They can’t really stay here forever, even if it is the nicest he’s felt in . . . years, really. He wonders what it means to Vergil, who probably hasn’t touched anyone in longer than Dante can imagine, but he doesn’t ask. Vergil’s at peace now, and Dante would never do anything to risk it. His brother deserves calm moments more than anyone else after the torment he’d been through. He never talks about it, but he doesn’t need to; the darkness visible in his eyes when he’s not guarding himself speaks volumes.

They disentangle from each other slowly, trying to extend touch for as long as they can: Vergil’s tail wraps itself around Dante’s ankle, Dante’s wings keep shielding Vergil. Finally, Vergil frowns and clearly wills the tail away, so Dante follows his suit, albeit unhappy about it.

“That’s not a nasty trap,” Dante speaks at last. “I imagined something more bloodthirsty. Everything else here is.”

“I imagine it drives full-blooded demons mad. They don’t exactly have opportunities to cuddle,” Vergil theorises while brushing off his coat with his hands. It doesn’t really help; golden flecks of the pollen remain embedded in the dark material, reflecting light. It’s a rather beautiful view, in Dante’s opinion, but then any view containing Vergil is. 

“Mm. Their loss,” Dante says, then pauses. Vergil _seemed_ happy, sure, but . . . “Are you okay?” 

Vergil gives him a look. “Need I remind you we’re twins, and therefore both half-blooded?”

Dante shakes his head. “That’s not it.” He hesitates. “You weren’t exactly open to touching me before that.”

Vergil keeps his voice perfectly even. “It had not made me do anything I did not wish for.”

Dante grins. “That’s good then.” He reaches for Vergil’s hand and laces their fingers together as they walk. “I don’t think it’s quite out of my system yet, brother,” he explains when Vergil raises an eyebrow at him. 

“Ah. That is right. Neither mine,” comes Vergil’s quiet reply. 

They press on together. Now that they’ve started touching, Dante’s not inclined to stop, but that’s fine. The pollen never quite stops working its magic on them. 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic also has a [twitter post](https://twitter.com/tonytears/status/1166504977369620482) :)


End file.
